Nearly forty-nine and childless--
yet I see them,
I hear them
and my heart hangs heavy as if they were my own.

How have I failed these young men and women
that I would hold up to praise,
to support,
to encourage--
that I would hold close to protect
from hatred,
persecution,
bigotry,
evil...
even as some of them would spit in my face
calling me white
and therefore ignorant of their plight?

They speak their truth
THE truth
and I can say nothing in reply
that I believe they could hear
as anything more than hollow hyperbole.

The legacy of pain
turns on an angry wheel
crushing the seedlings of unity
under the shouts of righteous outrage.